Tuxes and Dresses
by EternallyFab
Summary: AoStH. What happens when you've got two robots, a dance they have to do, and a hedgehog they have to catch? This. Scrounder.


"Oh, Grounder, for the last time it's step forward, step back, step, step, twirl!"

"How am I supposed to do that?" Grounder pushed the "pause" button on the cassette player, then turned back to Scratch, arms crossed. "I've got tracks!"

"Come on. We need to practice more to compete in the Mobius National Dance-Off."

"Uh, why?" Grounder looked up at Scratch, who in turn smacked Grounder's head, sending it spinning.

"_Sonic_ is competing! It's a great opportunity to catch the little blue twerp, and prove myself worthy to Dr. Robotnik! Ba-ha-ba-haaaaaa!"

"All right, but why am I wearing the dress?" Grounder held up the flimsy white scrap of fabric that sufficed as a slip.

"Because I look better in the tux. Now put on the music!"

Grounder obediently pushed the same button, and the track resumed. He then rolled back over to Scratch, and they started to dance again.

Every day, for the past week or so, they'd practiced this dance Scratch had carefully choreographed to take into account their height differences. Grounder had always enjoyed it far more than he let on, but he'd always chalked it up to the fact that despite his general clumsiness, Scratch was actually a great dancer and partner.

As they danced, Scratch was covertly whispering the steps to himself, and had just gotten to "twirl" when Robotnik barged in, seething with rage - well, more than usual, anyway.

"What is that insipid music I keep hearing? It's ruining my midday nap! And shouldn't you be making your break useful, rather than squandering it on vapid dance?"

"B-but your bulbousness, we _are_ making this break useful!" Scratch protested, carelessly dropping Grounder as he made his way over to Robotnik. "We're training for the dance competition so we can catch Sonic!"

"Oh, is that so?" Robotnik replied, with his sarcastic sincerity.

"Uh-huh," said Grounder, who'd managed to pick himself off the ground, "and Scratch will be my partner!"

"How lovely. Now, stop dilly-dallying and get back to your laundry duties!" Robotnik gestured to the massive pile of patterned boxers that was lying, untouched, in a basket. The robots grumbled and pretended to get to work. Once their boss was out of sight, they went back to the music player and hit play.

Pretty soon, another robot peeked in. "Hey, ain't you guys supposed to be on laundry duty?" Coconuts remarked, requisite mop in tow.

"Shh! Yes, but right now we're on our break, so we're allowed." Scratch shooed the monkey. "You can do it for us!"

"Yeah!" said Grounder, snapped out of his dreamy reverie.

"What? _Me_ do it for ya?" The two bots nodded slowly at him, grinning. "No! Uh-uh, no way! Oh, I hate laundry! Hate it hate it hate it!"

Luckily for Coconuts, Robotnik had just stormed in once more, carrying an overstuffed basket of identical tights and incensed by the sound of that dreadful music.

"From now on, all three of you will be taking care of this!" He set the large basket down and marched off. "And don't even think about diverting from your task - the consequences will be dire." The horrid malice in Dr. Robotnik's eyes spurred the trio to get going, afraid of what those consequences might be.

--

"So," Coconuts said as he was handed a set of red-polka-dotted boxers to fold, "why were you guys dancing?"

"We heard that Sonic was going to be running in the Mobius National Dance-Off," replied Scratch, stuffing the washer to its full capacity, "and I thought it would be a super-easy opportunity to catch Sonic!"

Grounder had to object. "Hey, I had the idea!"

"I did!"

"No, me!"

"Me!"

"QUIET!" shrieked Coconuts, and the two fell silent. "Who is Sonic competing with?"

"Nobody," both said, in unison.

"Then how come you're not dancing on your own?"

The two robots glanced at each other wordlessly, and Grounder spoke up. "Gee, I never thought of that."

"Me neither," concurred Scratch, who then bolted as soon as he could - he detested Robotnik's laundry as much as all the others.

Coconuts, having finished folding Robotnik's unvarying collection of clothes, sank down to the floor and gave Grounder a cursory look. "And why are you wearing a dress?"

"Scratch made me," he whispered as they headed back to attend to whatever else Robotnik wanted done that day. Grounder quietly giggled, stifling the sound with his drill. "I think he likes it."

--

Eventually, the day of the competition arrived. Thousands of indiscriminate Mobians packed themselves into the audience, with plenty trailing around the sides. The stage was set: classic crimson curtains served as a backdrop to the proceedings, and a spotlight was at the ready.

Scratch and Grounder, for their part, had managed to sneak out of the fortress and make their way to the show. They had brought the cassette with them, as well as (presumably) the appropriate garments, and had just arrived when the host had begun to announce the order in which they'd dance. First up, Abigail Ant. Next, Sonic the Hedgehog. Then, Grounder and Scratch -

"Oh, no!" cried Grounder, as he and Scratch rushed backstage to change. They hurriedly pulled their belongings out of the bag they'd brought.

Scratch stared inside the bag, then withdrew and looked at Grounder expectantly. "Grounder, you dumbbot, did you _remember_ to bring your costume?"

At this, Grounder seized. He backed away, fearing the worst. "Will you kill me if I say no?"

Fire blazed in Scratch's eyes.

"- b-but I'm sure there's plenty of stuff backstage I can try on! Right?" Grounder was now shaking, teeth chattering - what would happen?

"You moron! I had that dress custom-made! And -"

Scratch slapped a large palm over his mouth, eyes wide. It took a moment for Grounder to register what Scratch had said, but when it clicked, his own eyes grew huge.

Still stunned at the fact that this dance had been Scratch's plan all along, rather than a lucky fluke, he rolled over to the bag and checked one last time. "Ah-ha! I knew I put it in there!" Grounder fit the slip over his frame, and Scratch sighed peacefully.

Just then, a bright blue blur zoomed by, causing Scratch to jerk his head upwards.

"Was that Sonic? Let's nab him!"

They set off, unaware that Sonic was deliberately tricking them into getting them onstage. Sonic darted across the audience, through the throngs of people, and led them onstage just as the announcer was calling their names. Sonic set up the music player, and the two bots had barely enough time to blink before Sonic had pressed play.

_Step forward, step back, step, step, twirl_.

--

So they had failed to catch Sonic, once again. But that wasn't on the bots' minds as they left the stage, having at least gotten through the dance.

Scratch was fumbling with the buttons on his suit as he walked off. He stopped at a park bench and sat down, his clumsy fingers trying to get the suit off. "Ugh! I've gotta get outta this thing - it's killing me!"

"Aw, but Scratch, you look so pretty in it!"

"I _what?!_"

Grounder racked his brain for a cover-up - he'd have to come up with one quick if he didn't want Scratch mad again.

"Um, yeah! The suit!" he decided. "That's it - it's not you looks pretty, it's the suit! It's so shiny and -"

"Shut up."

Grounder did as he was told, thinking _Oh no, what have I done now?_ Venturing to peek at Scratch's face, he was astonished to see not an expression of pure hatred, but a playful smirk - it seemed to be a sudden change of moods.

"_Thank_ you, Grounder," he said, gesturing to himself vainly. "I do look rather good in this, don't I?"

The teal robot faintly nodded.

"And, if I might add - " as Scratch said this, he poked Grounder's white dress - "you don't look too bad yourself."

_Oh_.

Grounder grinned. "Aw, thanks, Scratch!" It wasn't too often that his companion would compliment him, so it would massively boost his spirits on the rare occasion that it did happen.

As he smiled wide, one thought was on his mind: _Scratch likes me! Scratch liiiikes me!_

Scratch pushed himself off the bench and headed out towards the fortress. Grounder, who was naturally slower than him, managed to catch up to Scratch. Hesitancy newly returned, he looked back at his pal as a sudden wish impelled him to grab Scratch's hand. A sort of jittery, nervous happiness shook Grounder, who could tell that Scratch was trying to fight off his own smile.

And that's how they walked, hand in hand, back to Robotnik's fortress.


End file.
